Second Chances
by TheBrownRecluse
Summary: What would you do if granted the opportunity to relive the best years of your life? An RLSB fanfic. Just give it a chance.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; I seriously doubt you would _want_ me to own these characters. I bow to the genius that is J.. Also to the co-creators of the Shoebox Project (which I steadfastly consider part of my canon), the magnificent ladyjaida and dorkorific. Much of my Sirius/Remus background comes from their genius.

Warnings: BOYxBOY If you don't like it, turn back now. No need to torture us all.

AN: Set roundabouts somewhere after chapter five of Deathly Hallows and follows canon fairly closely to a point. My changes: Sirius lives; Moody lives; there is no such thing as Remus/Tonks; Snape is still, at least partially, in the Order's good graces; and I've moved Bill and Fleur's wedding to the 20th of August rather than the 1st. Of course, anything after chapter five I've almost entirely reconstructed, thus the fanfiction.

Summary: What would you do if granted the opportunity to relive the best years of your life? An RLSB fanfic. Just give it a chance.

***

_**Rensacentia**_

"Sirius. _Sirius._ Padfoot, you great lazy lump, wake up!" Remus said, shaking his black dustmop of a lover, but to no avail. Sirius, still currently in his animagus form from the night before, simply gave a snort and rolled onto his back.

Remus regarded him stonily. "You're impossible," he huffed.

The two had been called out to a skirmish with several mischief-making Death Eaters at around midnight, along with a few of the other senior Order members. Despite there being a full moon, Remus had insisted on coming, and Sirius had accompanied him as a large black dog. Not bothering to change back upon his return, Sirius had curled up next to Remus on the floor for the night.

"Come on, you don't want the kids to eat all of Molly's bacon, now do you?" Remus cajoled. "Think about it, Padfoot. _Bacon._"

The black nose twitched.

Finally Sirius rolled over and opened his eyes. He stretched casually and yawned, showing off sharp canine teeth and a ridiculously long tongue.

"Ugh, Merlin, you have dog breath," Remus complained, wrinkling his nose. "Change back, quickly. Something's happened."

The dog sat up and transformed. Remus felt a warm glow of recognition spread through him at the sight of the once again human youth. This was the young rebel Remus had fallen in love with all those years ago, not the corpse of a man who had spent twelve years in Azkaban for a crime of which he was innocent. But…how was it possible?

"Am I still dreaming, because you look particularly yummy this morning," Sirius said dazedly. He was staring, but Remus didn't blame him. After all, the years hadn't been kind to the unfortunate werewolf either. And yet now…

"This is real, Pads," Remus replied in wonderment. "Somehow…somehow we've woken up seventeen."

"Or eighteen," Sirius offered.

"Does it really matter?" asked Remus, frowning. "The point is, we're young again. Besides, your hair was longer when you were eighteen."

"Blimey," Sirius said. "But how…?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out."

The seconds ticked by in silence, but for the occasional snatch of early morning chatter rising from the kitchen far below.

"The white dust," Remus whispered, comprehension flitting across his scarred features.

The boys looked at each other in dawning realization.

"The dust—" Remus began again.

"We didn't notice it last night—"

"Well, we weren't in human form, and it was dark."

"Blimey, must have been—"

"Time," Remus finished. "Grains of time."

"Yaxley must have had a time turner on him when we jumped him," Sirius said, holding out his arms for personal scrutiny. "Why the bloody hell was he carrying a time-turner?"

"I don't know," Remus said. "And if it was a time-turner—well, how could it not be, really, but you do realize you've succeeded in destroying what was likely one of the few left, don't you?"

"Hey, for all I knew, it could have been something dangerous," Sirius defended himself. "Come to think of it, a time-turner in the hands of a Death Eater is about as safe as a chimera with a head cold. I performed a public service."

"I'll be sure to get you a medal," Remus said with a grin.

"Forget the medal, I just want to see Yaxley now," Sirius laughed, a wicked glint in his eyes. "The thing practically blew up in his face. Shame Snivelly already figured out a way to reverse the effects with Avery."

"Tragic," Remus deadpanned, still smirking.

"Isn't it though?"

Silence descended once again. Leaving Sirius to his own thoughts, Remus surveyed his image in the floor-length mirror across the room. His seventeen-year-old self stared back, hair no longer grey, features with fewer lines of the care and struggle of years of pain, the claw-scars from the summer before his sixth year considerably clearer than the faded lines they had come to be. Oh well. Sirius had always said they made Remus look "quite sexy," not that Remus necessarily agreed.

A loud whoop and a joy-filled bark of laughter were quick to startle Remus from his musings. Sirius was currently dancing around the room with a feather duster.

"Are you out of your head?" Remus asked curiously. "Please don't tell me this is some horrible side effect to the Time granules."

"I'm seventeen again, Rem! Do you realize what that means?"

"You're just as crazy as you were back then?"

"Remus, _physically_ I was never in Azkaban!" Sirius cried excitedly.

"Physically, we never left Hogwarts," Remus pointed out.

"I know! Isn't it brilliant? I am sexy and godlike and completely _unhindered,_" Sirius said, spinning in blissful circles.

"You are completely un_hinged,_" Remus modified, though he, too, was grinning like an idiot. Remus gloried in the sheer ecstasy emanating from his lover.

The man—boy?—hadn't been this truly in years. This was how Sirius was _meant_ to be, Remus reflected, not that downtrodden corpse he had become. And then a thought struck him.

"Hey, Sirius, you know, _physically_ you are now the same age as your godson."

Sirius spun to a stop. "Oh, wow. Hey, you're right." The duster hit the floor. "Let's go show them!"

"Now? But I'm not dressed—" Remus started, but Sirius was out the door and gone.

"Sirius! Sirius, get your fuzzy arse back here!" Remus yelled after him, scrambling to pull clothes on. "Oh, you," he muttered indignantly, and then realized he'd been attempting to wear his pants backwards.

"Bugger."

***

AN: Reviews are like crack, only better.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; I seriously doubt you would _want_ me to own these characters. I bow to the genius that is J. K. Rowling. Also to the co-creators of the Shoebox Project (which I steadfastly consider part of my canon), the magnificent ladyjaida and dorkorific. Much of my Sirius/Remus background comes from their genius (particularly, in this chapter, the dialogue concerning Remus' scars).

AN: Part II! Much thanks to those of you who reviewed! This would have been up earlier, but my loveable Beta is having issues, so instead of waiting any further for her, this part comes to you UNBETA'D! So any mistakes are my own.

***

Second Chances: Chapter 2

"Finally! I thought you lot were going to sleep all day," Molly Weasley chastised as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny trooped into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

"Mum, it's only half past eight," said Ron, collapsing into a chair.

"Yes, and us with less than two days and an entire wedding to prepare for," Molly said. "Help yourselves to some breakfast, bacon, eggs, toast and tea are on the table, and then get yourselves to the Burrow. We've so much cleaning yet to do, and the Delacours are thrashing out the final details with the planners as we speak."

Ron groaned histrionically.

"What about the others?" asked Ginny, glaring pointedly at the twins, who had stopped by for a brief breakfast and were already preparing to leave. "Aren't they helping too?"

"Can't, dear sister. We've got business to attend to, you see," said Fred.

"A shop to run, adoring fans to supply, dark wizards to offend, all that jazz," said George.

"But we _promise_ we'll be by later," Fred added quickly, catching a look from his mother.

"That is, _if_ we can pry ourselves away," George continued. "We'd best be off, mum. Breakfast was excellent, we'll see you this evening."

Two pops later and the space the young entrepreneurs had occupied was now just so much air.

"Those two don't come by often enough," Molly complained ambiguously to the inhabitants of Number 12's kitchen. "And even when they do, they never stay long."

"They're young and exuberant, Molly dear, let them have their fun," said Arthur absently, skimming the Daily Prophet. "They're certainly doing well for themselves, after all."

"Is it too much for a mother to ask to see her children once and a while?" huffed Molly, handing out more plates as the four newcomers took their seats.

"I rather enjoy the quiet," replied Arthur matter-of-factly, turning the page of his paper.

"Quiet, Arthur? Are you barking?" asked Tonks from further down table. "When is this place ever quiet? Pass the bacon there, Harry."

"If you eat all of his bacon, Sirius won't be very happy with you," Harry said, grinning, but passed her the plate nonetheless.

"Well if he can't get his sorry arse out of bed in the morning, I think I'm entitled to all the bacon I want," she said, picking up a piece and taking a large, rebellious bite out of it.

"I'd still be in bed too, if I'd been up all night keeping a werewolf company," said Ginny in Sirius' defense, while spreading jam on her toast.

"Oh, they don't stay up all night," Tonks rejoined dismissively. "That potion of Remus' lets him sleep though the night now, if he wants to. Those two have no excuse. Bacon, meet your doom."

"Will Remus and Sirius be coming to help today, Mrs. Weasley?" asked Hermione.

"Well, that will be up to them, now," said Molly, settling herself back down at the table with a fresh cup of tea. "I won't be expecting them any time soon, though, what with the full moon for poor Remus. And the late night they both had on top of that…"

"Late night?" Harry asked.

"There was a disturbance last night in Darford," Alastor Moody answered from over his own cup of tea.

"Ooo, what sort of disturbance, Mad-Eye?" piped in Tonks. "Anything interesting?"

"No, just some low-ranking Death Eaters, but we were up more than half the night setting things back to rights."

"Why didn't anyone tell us?" asked Harry, disappointed at being left out. "I mean, a battle between the Order and the Death Eaters is something we should know about—"

"I wouldn't even call it that," interrupted Moody. "Remus and Sirius and I met up with Kingsley at the scene and dispatched them in due course. Wasn't anything serious, they were naught more than troublemakers, bored no doubt. We didn't see a need to trouble anyone."

"Professor Moody, did you say Remus went?" asked Hermione, concern in her voice. "But the full moon…"

"Yes, well, he insisted and I saw no reason why not to let him go," Moody said. "The Wolfsbane lets him keep his mind, and Sirius was with him the entire time."

Molly tutted, clearly disapproving of the recklessness of the act. "Sirius seems to be a rather bad influence on our Remus lately. I swear, ever since that man was cleared by the Ministry, he's been a force to rival the twins."

The trio flashed each other knowing smiles. Sirius certainly wasn't wasting any time making up for the fourteen years he'd missed out on—twelve in Azkaban and two hiding from the Aurors.

"Better than him moping around all the time, I say," said Ron, between shoveling forkfuls of egg into his mouth.

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of running footsteps on the stairs drew everyone's attention. Moody's magical eye whirled to stare through the ceiling.

"Hmm. Someone must be up after all," Mrs. Weasley said coolly, frowning slightly as she listened to the clunky footfalls.

"Aww, now I have to share," Tonks joked lightly.

And then they all heard Moody mutter, "Who is that?" and saw him pull put out his wand.

The dark-haired youth that appeared in the doorway was unfamiliar to most.

***

Sirius had less than a second for his brain to process the sight of the wands pointed at him. Reflexes kicked in.

***

Half a dozen hexes simultaneously bounced off the doorframe and into the hall beyond as the figure dove for shelter.

As the sparks cleared, the group stood tensely, chairs overturned, watching for any sign of movement, wands still at the ready.

Tonks, who hadn't fired any spells at the newcomer, was staring wide-eyed at the empty doorway. "Wait, that was—"

"Oi! When did we start firing first and asking questions later? Whatever happened to common courtesy?" a voice demanded irritably. It was a voice that Harry recalled hearing once before, in a memory of four marauders and the end of their O.W.L.s…

"_Sirius?_"

"If I come out, will you promise not to hex me? I just got this face back, no need to ruin it just yet," the voice said crossly.

No one moved. Not even Tonks, who knew the face and voice of her favorite cousin from childhood. But why would an imposter use the identity of a school age Marauder?

"How do you sign your letters to me?" Harry finally asked, voicing the basic security question he was used to using with Sirius.

"Snuffles," the voice said. "We good now?"

"_Sirius?"_ Harry said again, at last lowering his wand.

"In the flesh," he said, stepping into the room with a broad smile.

Wands were lowered; several seconds ticked by. The atmosphere in the room was one of general shock and disbelief. Moody still had his wand leveled at Sirius' chest.

"Don't all congratulate me at once, now," Sirius muttered ironically.

"Bu—but you're…_young_," stammered Hermione in disbelief.

"I know, isn't it ace?"

"How in the world…?" breathed Molly.

"You look great, Siri," said Tonks enthusiastically.

"I'd say," Sirius said happily. "One of the Death Eaters had a time-turner on him last night for who all knows what reason. Anyway, it broke when we attacked him, got all over us. Course, we didn't notice it until this morning…"

"We?"

"Me an' Remus. He'll be down in a sec, I reckon," said Sirius with a cursory glance toward the stairs.

"Which Death Eater?" asked Moody, frowning.

"Yaxley. I can't think why he would have been carrying a time-turner, but there's nothing else it could have been. And when it smashed, it was still on his person. He had to be affected by the time-dust as well, even more so than Remus and I," answered Sirius suddenly professional. Which lasted all of about two seconds. "Reckon he looks a bit like Avery did after he fought you lot in the Department of Mysteries," he went on, smirking amusedly at the group of young people.

The short silence that followed was filled with appraising stares and wondering looks. Sirius drank it all in, reveling in the attention, admittedly shallow as that was. After all, it wasn't every day one turned _twenty years younger._ He was determined to enjoy the experience for all it was worth.

At length, Harry said, grinning, "You do look good, Sirius."

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows in agreement.

"So—how old exactly are you?" Hermione inquired, ever the academic.

"Around seventeen, from what Remus reckons. Same age as my godson, how's that for wicked?" said Sirius, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Is it permanent?" asked Ginny.

At that moment a small pop signaled the Apparition of Remus Lupin, now fully dressed and presentable, into the room. Immediately Sirius latched himself onto the unfortunate lycanthrope in a death grip.

"Agh! Sirius, what the—? Get off!"

"It won't wear off, will it?" Sirius cried desperately.

"What?" cried Remus, trying to dislodge him, without success.

"The spell, the Time, the whatever the bloody hell it is."

Remus stopped and looked at him with his patented You-Are-Most-Certainly-Insane-Whyever-Do-I-Put-Up-With-You expression. "Well, you certainly won't be young forever, Sirius. You'll have to grow up sometime."

"But, slow-like, right? Normal?"

"If you mean in the sense that everyone else ages, then yes, I certainly don't see why not. There's no evidence to the contrary."

"Oh thank Merlin."

Sirius relinquished his hold and slid gracelessly into the closest available chair. Remus shook his head fondly and turned his attention to the rest of the kitchen's inhabitants.

"Good morning, Molly," he said, purposefully disregarding her still somewhat stunned countenance.

"G-good morning, Remus," she managed, and then, visibly pulling herself together added, "How are you feeling, dear? Would you like anything?"

"I feel wonderful, actually," he replied, "And yes, tea would be excellent."

Remus situated himself at the table, sitting next to Sirius. The four young ones—well, the four others _his own age_, now—and the other Order members present took his cue and righted their own chairs, settling in to finish their breakfasts. Arthur retrieved his paper from the floor, Moody at last put away his wand, and Tonks was again wide-eyed.

All attention now turned to Remus, who hadn't yet had his turn to be ogled.

Remus waited only a moment. "Several of my scars were more noticeable in my youth, as I'm sure you've realized," he said, breaking the hush.

"It isn't that," Hermione insisted. "We were just amazed at how different—well, that is to say, we aren't used to—I mean…they are rather magnificent, aren't they?" she finished, apologetically.

"Its quite all right, I've had plenty of time to get used to it by now," Remus replied kindly.

"You should have seen them when they were fresh. He was all sorts of worried about how they made him _look_, vain little creature that he is," said Sirius with a sidelong glance at Remus.

"Oh, yes, because _I_ was the one who spent hours in front of the mirror in the mornings arranging my hair to tousled perfection," quipped Remus sarcastically.

"Do you still have that picture you sent Jamesie and I?" Sirius carried on, pointedly ignoring him. "Do you reckon after all these years you'll still be trying to hide behind the frame?"

"I recall you mentioning something about friendship scars and me poking you in the face with a stick," said Remus, ignoring his friend in turn. "Tell me, does that offer still stand?"

Their bantering was cut short by the arrival of Mrs. Weasley with Remus' tea. He smiled gratefully at her when she set the cup and saucer in front of him. "Thank you, Molly, I truly appreciate it."

"Its not trouble, Remus, you know that. But I have to say, when I saw what happened to the two of you, I was a bit worried you'd have changed in more than appearances. I'm glad to discover I was wrong. This place has need of more manners like yours," Mrs. Weasley said, shooting disapproving glances at Sirius with his feet propped up on the long kitchen table.

"Pfff. No need to worry there. Remus has always been that way. His first words were 'Yes, please,' and 'Thank you kindly,'" Sirius said. "If the combined efforts of James and I over the course of seven years couldn't knock it out of him, nothing ever will."

"Oh, I wouldn't say you were _completely_ unsuccessful," ventured Remus, stirring idly at his tea.

"All too true, my good Moony, but," Sirius said, catching the anticipatory gazes of the group across the table, "perhaps we should leave our tales of audacity and grandeur for later, seeing as Molly needs you lot for slave labor.

"Hmph. Slave labor indeed," Molly sniffed.

"Only joking, Molly," amended Sirius.

"And the rest of us must be off now, as well, I'm afraid," Arthur announced, checking his watch and pushing back his chair.

"As much as I'd love to stay and chat, Arthur's right," Tonks said. "An Auror's work is never done, especially these days."

"Just be thankful we're on the day shift this week," said Moody.

"Of course! Wouldn't want to miss the wedding reception, now would we?" said Tonks with a wink. "After all, that is the best part."

"Will you be flooing this morning?"

"Nah, I'll take my chances and Apparate. The floo network gets so congested this time of morning," said Tonks, pulling out her wand.

"As will I," Moody concluded.

"Bye all!" called Tonks, and one after the other, they were gone.

"They do have a point," Arthur said. He pecked Molly gently on the cheek, promised to stop by the Burrow as soon as he was able, and followed the two Aurors to the Ministry.

"We, on the other hand, will be using the network. All this nonsense about congestion," Molly shook her head. "Come on, you four, get yourselves ready and meet me in the study, we'll floo to the Burrow from there."

"Why are weddings so much work?" muttered Ron as he and the others trudged unwillingly toward the door.

"We'll see you later," Sirius said, waving merrily to them.

"You aren't coming?" demanded Harry.

"We'll be by in a little bit, Harry," he said, and then turned to the Order's matron. "Sorry, Molly, I want to make sure Remus is actually as well as he says he is before we let him exert himself."

Molly awarded him a gentle smile. "Alright then, come by when he feels up to it, no rush. And Remus? Take care not to push yourself."

Remus nodded patiently. "Don't worry about me, Molly, you have enough on your plate for the next few days."

"It looks like we've got the house to ourselves for a little while, eh, Moony?" said Sirius with a sly smile after Molly had followed the others upstairs.

"That sounds dangerously like a proposition."

"Perhaps it is."

"You know I'm perfectly fine, Sirius," Remus said suspiciously. "And you were much too innocent with Molly. I would think she would be able to see through such tactics by now, with her years of raising boys like she has. Just what are you planning?"

Remus was lifting his cup to take a sip when Sirius leaned over him and very nearly purred into his ear.

"You know, Rem, _physically_, you're still a virgin."

Remus choked on his tea.

***

AN: Who saw this coming? Hands? Lol, hope you liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; I seriously doubt you would _want_ me to own these characters. I bow to the genius that is J. K. Rowling. Also to the co-creators of the Shoebox Project (which I steadfastly consider part of my canon), the magnificent ladyjaida and dorkorific of LJ. Much of my Sirius/Remus background comes from their genius.

AN: I should learn not to make promises. How long has it been since I updated this? Anyway, you all owe this update to Grimshaw Redford, who favorited this story and reminded me of its existence, which in turn prompted me to reread it and actually start working on it again. Also dncnmndy, who's been bugging me for weeks to write more.

Also, I'm switching verb tense to present. Simply because I feel like it. Hope it doesn't throw you off too much.

***

Second Chances: Chapter 3

"Sirius, we're going to be late!" Remus calls, straightening the lapels for the fourth time on the borrowed dress robes he wore. Borrowed, incidentally, from the very man he was currently attempting to hasten on their way, and magically modified somewhat to account for Remus's slighter chest and shorter build.

"All part of the plan, my dear Moony," Sirius' voice echoes merrily from somewhere down the hall, heedless to Remus' impatience. "We are to be fashionably late."

"Sirius, people aren't fashionably late to _weddings_," Remus insists. "It simply isn't done."

"Au contraire, mon ami. I'm sure it happens. I mean, it has to, doesn't it, because who really wants to go to the ceremony anyway? The drunken revelry and carousing that happens afterwards is the fun part." Sirius sashays into the bedroom, tie still hanging loose about his neck, but at least his shirt is tucked in. Remus watches him in the mirror, feigning more annoyance than he truly feels. After all, someone has to keep Sirius in line, and Remus feels, as his boyfriend, lover, partner, whatever one wished to call their current state of being, this task most logically falls to him.

"Do you _want_ Molly to prevent you from having grandchildren?" he says, fussing with a bit of nonexistent dust on his sleeve and then adds, "Do up your tie."

Sirius complies, unquestioning, fingers seemingly moving of their own accord as the rest of him continues to saunter fluidly up to Remus.

"Honestly, Moony. Can you see me having grandchildren? Present circumstances aside, I've never been much of the fatherly type."

Remus watches Sirius finish the knot perfectly, years of experience guiding his hands, all fluidity and grace. His years in Azkaban had erased this, buried it beneath innumerable layers of paranoia and the constant struggle to retain some semblance of sanity. It was an indescribable comfort to Remus to see Sirius regain so much of his old self, able to admire once more the elegance that he could never hope to accomplish, not to have to worry over quivering fingers pushing back matted hair.

"Any child of yours would never reach adulthood," he says.

"They might."

"They would also have a very good chance of being mentally scarred."

"That, alas, cannot be helped," Sirius says, settling an arm languidly across Remus's shoulders and meeting his eyes in the mirror with a smirk. "Fortunately, unless you've a uterus hidden away somewhere I haven't found, which is highly doubtful, given the amount of exploring I have personally conducted, we'll never have to worry about my raising children, scarred or otherwise."

Remus rolls his eyes.

"Hey, you remember that time I took Harry on the motorbike and you almost had a conniption fit?"

"He was four moths old!" Remus exclaims. "We were meant to be babysitting him, not endangering his life. Lily was furious."

"Honestly Moony, he was perfectly safe. He's still alive, isn't he?" says Sirius, the very pinnacle of innocence. "Besides, James thought it was ace. Told me so. Secretly. When Lily wasn't looking." Sirius beams winningly.

Remus shakes his head. "Let's hope Harry has the sense to keep any future children of his _away_ from you."

Sirius's hold on him tightened, bringing their faces closer and Sirius's mouth in direct alignment with Remus's ear. "Moony, all this talk of kiddies, it's very…_sexual_."

"Not right now, Sirius, we have to leave." Remus says, moving to twist out of his lover's grip, hoping to put a stop to any such mischief _before_ it started.

Sirius catches his wrist, however, and Remus can feel a purpose in that hand. Something tells him this will not end well. For their reputations, at any rate.

"Weddings are boooooring," Sirius persists, pulling him close once more. "And you, dear Moony, are very, _very_ interesting."

_Oh._ Remus knows that tone, loves it, because it's Sirius and that tone holds the promise of all the delicious things he will do to Remus in the very near future if only Remus will let him… _Just let him… _

He leans forward into Sirius's embrace…

No! No, they can't, because Molly would kill them, Remus knows this, and even if she happens not to notice their absence directly, Harry will wonder, and the inevitable questions will follow, and then Remus will blush and splutter and Sirius will make lewd insinuations that no one will really believe, and it _simply wasn't worth it. _Remus opens his mouth to inform Sirius of this.

"Sirius, it isn't worth it; you know Harry will ask—" he tries.

"You can tell me it wasn't worth it after wards," says Sirius, positively grinning.

Remus feels slightly weak, although from fear of the wrath of the Weasley matron or the fact that Sirius is now running kisses down his neck, he is not sure. "Ah, Sirius, no, Sirius, it isn't worth it, the death sentence we will—_oh_…it isn't…we can't…"

Sirius pauses and glances up at Remus in a manner that Remus could almost define as coy if not for the predatory hunger etched into the line of his mouth and the darkness of his eyes. Remus momentarily forgets his objections, utterly captivated. He knows his own face is flushed and that his collar is askew, and that this is a problem, yes, it is a problem, because…because…but he cannot seem to remember why…

"Come on love, you know I can't resist you in dress robes," Sirius coaxes. "They're so not you that I just _must_ take them off."

And then Remus remembers.

"No! No time, we have _no time,_" he begins again to protest, but Sirius isn't listening and soon they've made their way to their bed and Remus' perfectly pressed robes are somewhere in a pile on the floor and his brain no longer holds the capacity to think _We're going to be late_ or _Molly is going to kill us, _or any other thoughts included in the general definition of coherency.

***

It is roughly an hour later that Remus regains his ability to function in the realm of rationality.

"If Molly asks, I'm blaming you for this," he informs the man currently curled around him.

"Oh yes, and what are you going to say? 'Sorry we're late, Molly, couldn't be helped, we were having a bit of a snog, and it turned into a bit of a shag, if you know what I mean, these things happen.' You know what, I'll pay you 20 galleons if you actually do it, I'd love to see her face."

"You don't have twenty galleons."

"I could easily get twenty galleons. I am a free man now, cleared of all charges, complete with an official ministry apology, if you'll recall. Wouldn't even have to bribe any goblins." Sirius launches into a discourse about how this takes half of the fun out of buying anything and something to do with a Muggle film star, but Remus is only half listening.

Instead he wonders how they actually _will_ tell everyone, when the time comes. Hell, it had been hard enough telling James and Lily—granted, at the time they hadn't realized that Lily had already figured it out. She had always been a keen young woman. James had had no idea, but he took the news that his two best mates were sleeping together quite well, even if there was henceforth a never ending stream of ribbing, but that was James, after all. Remus knew that the wizarding world was a bit more accepting of…_variations_ in sexuality; as a society, they had better things to be prejudiced against—like werewolves, for instance, or how "pure" one's blood happened to be. Who you slept with was your own decision. Not that everyone saw things as such, but Remus has faith in those he calls his friends. It would take some getting used to though. He and Sirius have hidden their relationship for so long. He thinks, he _thinks_ Minerva might have guessed, might have known something was Different between the two of them, even back at school. Sometimes she would get that Look, not her I Know What You've Done and I Don't Like It look, but no less unsettling to Remus. Really, it was a wonder no one else had noticed, particularly since Remus had moved most of his things into Sirius's room a long time ago.

But none of that stops Remus's inner voice from declaiming its own personal doubts on repeat. _Harry grew up with Muggles,_ the reel runs. _What if he doesn't understand?_ Remus couldn't help considering the possibility. It would be almost unbearable to have Sirius's godson, the last connection they both had to Lily and James, turn his back on them. Sirius would be devastated. Remus is nearly sure it won't happen, that everything will be fine. Harry doesn't have a bigoted bone in his body, and yet there is still a chance… But he needed to know. They all need to know. Remus's entire life is characterized by secrets, from his lycanthropy, to the pranks the Marauders pulled at Hogwarts, to his missions for the Order, both in the old days and now. But this… It was time to stop hiding.

"We're going to have to tell them soon, you realize, if we're ever going to get around to it," he finally says evenly. Sirius has stopped in the middle of his sentence and gone still. When he doesn't say anything, Remus continues. "And somehow I—I _want _to tell them. Just a week ago, I was dreading the notion, and now…"

"Now you want to share it with the world?" Sirius asks. "With backflips and skywriting and all such nonsense?" His tone is flippant, but Remus can hear that he is serious underneath the embellishments and teasing.

"Perhaps not quite that extravagant, but yes," Remus replies, sitting up and thinking idly of the cost of the plane and the nature of injuries that could and would inevitably be sustained, because Sirius would probably do it after all if Remus let him. Except Sirius would probably scoff at the plane and insist they use the bike, because, _really_ Moony, the Sirius-voice in Remus's head says, it _flies_ doesn't it? Remus shudders.

"I know what you mean," Sirius says, still lounging on the pillows behind Remus's back, and when Remus turns to look at him, there is a strange and long-missing glint of joy in his gaze. He rises and tips himself off the side of the mattress, pulling on discarded clothing as he goes. "Come on. If we're lucky, we'll sneak in just in time for cocktails."

"We are dead," Remus says, flopping back on the bed. "You have forfeited our lives for sex."

"And it was very very worth it. I shall die a happy and sated man." He is already half-dressed, and Remus wants a shower, but there really isn't time for that now. He is silently grateful that Sirius is so adept at everything from combative spells to domestic magic. Remus' own cleaning spells never seemed to function quite as effectively.

"Are you coming with, or have I successfully deprived you of all use of your legs?"

Remus gets up, slowly, reluctantly, a sharp contrast to his eagerness of earlier, and stares pitifully at the pile of dress robes, no doubt irreparably wrinkled and covered in dog hair.

"Why do I let you talk me into these things?" he asks.

"I don't know that there was much talking going on." Sirius says with a lecherous smirk.

"You're a berk," Remus tells him, swatting at the back of Sirius's head playfully, but Sirius ducks away easily.

"I'll grab our gift for the happy couple and meet you downstairs, yeah?"

"Go ahead," Remus answers, and Sirius swoops in for a kiss before he goes for the door.

"Don't forget your jacket!" Remus calls after him. "And do tie your tie!" He hears Sirius mumble a cheery affirmative and surveys the room.

"Right. Now where have my trousers got to?"

***

A/N: Sorry it's short. Reviews are love.


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